Quotes About Femininity

She was so intelligent that she could think herself into beauty. Intelligence...they don't talk about it much, the poets, but when a woman is intelligent and passionate and good...

The clitoris is pure in purpose. It is the only organ in the body designed purely for pleasure.

I bet you're worried. I was worried. I was worried about vaginas. I was worried about what we think about vaginas, and even more worried that we don't think about them.

I was worried about my own vagina. It needed a context of other vaginas-- a community, a culture of vaginas. There's so much darkness and secrecy surrounding them-- like the Bermunda Triangle.

What does your vagina smell like?' ANSWER: 'My husband's face.

a great social success is a pretty girl who plays her cards as carefully as if she were plain

Their point of resemblance to each other & their difference from so many American women, lay in the fact that they were all happy to exist in a man's world- they preserved their individuality through men & not by opposition to them.

Her breasts, although not large, jutted out shamelessly under the soft, warm, heavy fabric, free of the tight undergarments that imprisoned them during the day.

You're the only girl I've seen for a long time that actually did look like something blooming.

A sense of responsibility would spoil her. She's too pretty.

I hate dainty minds,' answered Marjorie. 'But a girl has to be dainty in person. If she looks like a million dollars she can talk about Russia, ping-pong, or the League of Nations and get away with it.

Her beauty climbed the rolling slope, it came into the room, rustling ghost-like through the curtains...

Girls like you are responsible for all the tiresome colorless marriages; all those ghastly inefficiencies that pass as feminine qualities. What a blow it must be when a man with imagination marries the beautiful bundle of clothes that he's been building ideals around, and finds that she's just a weak, whining, cowardly mass of affectations!

Her bedroom had seemed so pink and young and delicate, appropriate to her pastel-shaded lingerie tossed here and there on chair and bed.

Each night when she prepared for bed she smeared her face with some new unguent which she hoped illogically would give back the glow and freshness to her vanishing beauty.

Such a pretty girl- to say such wise things.

a negligée of robin's-egg blue laid out upon the bed diffused a faint perfume, elusive and familiar. On a chair were a pair of stockings and a street dress; an open powder box yawned upon the bureau. She had gone out.

Their point of resemblance to each other and their difference from so many American women, lay in the fact that they were all happy to exist in a man's world--they preserved their individuality through men and not by opposition to them. They would all three have made alternatively good courtesans or good wives not by the accident of birth but through the greater accident of finding their man or not finding him.

Dick tried to plunge over the Alpine crevasse between the sexes.

Her face, the face of a saint, a viking Madonna, shone through the faint motes that snowed across the candlelight, drew down its flush from the wine-colored lanterns in the pine. She was still as still.

I'm glad it's a girl. And I hope she'll be a fool--that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.

Tamam dedim, k?z olduÄŸuna sevindim, inÅŸallah aptal olur, ÅŸu dünyada bir k?z?n olabileceÄŸi en iyi ÅŸey aptal ve güzel olmak

Then Nicole. Rosemary saw her suddenly in a new way and found her one of the most beautiful people she had ever known. Her face, the face of a saint, a viking Madonna, shone through the faint motes that snowed across the candlelight, drew down its flush from the wine-colored lanterns in the pine. She was still as still

Too bad she was dull--dull girls were unbearable--certainly pretty though.